Bittersweet Taste of Revenge
by aj81writing NO LONGER IN USE
Summary: AU/AH. Elena Gilbert was never able to forget the man who unknowingly robbed her of her innocence. Ten years later, he comes back into her life. Elena will finally be able to seek revenge. But will she still want to?
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: This story is based on a Mills & Boon's novel by Carole Mortimer, whose title I don't know in English (No copyright infringement intended). I read this many years ago, and this idea popped into my head just as I was finishing my story Elena's Escape. I still have two stories already going, so I don't know why I insist on starting new ones… I don't write M-rated stories, but this book would probably be just that. Therefore, I'm cleaning it up a bit, and changing a lot of the details to suit the TVD characters. I don't have it in front of me, so I'm basically taking the storyline as I remember it. _

_**Setting**__: AU (obviously). AH. For the purpose of this story, I'm making up a career that probably doesn't exist. In the book, the protagonist is a painter, but I see Elena more as a writer. As for the characters, you'll get to know them as the story progresses. You will HATE some of these characters at first… Remember, though, things are not always as they appear… Enjoy!_

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><p>Bittersweet Taste of Revenge<p>

~ I~

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><p>Grey silk sheets, piercing blue eyes. They haunted her. Even now, ten years later, she could remember every detail of that fateful night. The excitement, the thrill, the pleasure - and the utter humiliation that followed. It had been her first and last sexual experience.<p>

Elena Gilbert hadn't thought about that night for a long time now, or at least so she thought. The truth was, she would never be able to forget it. The reason she was reliving it now, though, was the call she had received from her agent this morning. Damon Salvatore wanted to hire her to do a customized biography on his latest mistress, Andie Star.

Over the years, Elena had made a lucrative career from writing mini biographies for the rich and famous. Her pieces were highly sought after, and now she had attracted the attention of film mogul Damon Salvatore. Her first instinct had been to tell Matt, her agent, that she was too busy to take on new clients, and she had tried to do so. However, Matt insisted this was too big of an opportunity to pass up, and that Damon Salvatore could make her life very difficult if he chose. Elena had no reason to doubt his conviction. She had experienced Damon Salvatore's cruelty first hand.

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><p>She hadn't wanted to go to the party at the Salvatore mansion in the first place, but her best friend Bonnie had convinced her it was just what she needed to take her mind off all the drama in her life. It was the last big party before graduation, and Caroline Forbes was hosting. The three girls had been friends all through high school, but had started to drift apart their senior year. Caroline had started dating Stefan Salvatore and basically dumped her childhood friends. This party invitation was a form of peace offering from Caroline, and it would be incredibly rude to refuse.<p>

Elena's parents had recently died in a tragic car accident, and she was left in the care of her aunt Jenna. It had been a rough couple of months, and Elena agreed with Bonnie. She needed to take her mind off the drama in her life.

When Bonnie and Elena entered the Salvatore mansion, they were taken aback by the sheer amount of people in the house. The parlor was impressive, to say the least, and the place was teeming with local and non-local guests.

"Who are all these people?" Elena whispered to Bonnie.

"I have no idea," Bonnie said.

They were soon spotted by Caroline, who bounced over to them, grabbing two flutes of champagne on her way over and handing them over as she kissed them on the cheek. "Hi guys! I'm so glad you came! This is crazy, right?" she said, gesturing to the room.

"Do you know all these people?" Bonnie asked Caroline.

"God, no," Caroline rolled her eyes. "Most of them are business associates of Damon's."

"Damon?" Elena frowned.

"Stefan's brother," Caroline said in a 'duh'-tone. "You've never heard of him?"

Of course Elena had heard of Damon Salvatore. He was a notorious ladies man whose wife finally divorced him after years of him repeatedly cheating on her. It had been in all the papers. He was also described as ruthless when it came to business, and even at a relatively young age – he was 28 years old – had created a small fortune for himself. His wife, Katherine Pierce, was said to receive half in the divorce. With everything he must have put her through, she was sure to deserve it, Elena thought grimly.

"Ok, well, I have to go talk to some of my other guests. Try the shrimp," Caroline said and disappeared into the crowd.

Elena and Bonnie shook their heads at their old friend and started making their way through the room.

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><p>Elena was just getting a second glass of champagne when her heart stopped. Across the room, there was a man downing a tumbler of an amber liquid like it was water. He was gorgeous. His raven hair brought out the blue in his eyes. She was mesmerized by him. He looked so distraught, as if he had fallen victim to some great injustice. Meanwhile, there was sensuality to his lips, which at the same time had a hint of cruelness to them. Dressed all in black, the man screamed danger. Still, Elena was unable to avert her eyes. When his piercing gaze met hers, her breath got caught in her throat.<p>

"Elena?" Bonnie came up beside her, snapping her out of her trance.

"Uh…"

"What's wrong?"

"That man," she breathed, looking at the space the mystery man had previously occupied.

"What man?"

"He was… he looked at me as if… he was undressing me with his eyes."

"O…kay… sounds creepy," Bonnie frowned.

"No… it was… um… never mind," Elena shook her head.

"You sure you're ok?" Bonnie said, eyeing her friend suspiciously.

"Yes, I'm fine. I just… I need some air."

"Ok, I'll come with you."

"No, that's ok… go have fun. I saw Luka before, he was looking at you."

"He was not," Bonnie blushed slightly.

"I'm positive," Elena laughed. "Go on, have fun. I'll see you later."

"Ok."

While Bonnie headed into the crowd, Elena went in the opposite direction, out onto the back porch. It was deserted and Elena leaned against the railing as she took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the cool night air.

"Was it getting too hot for you in there?" a velvety voice drawled behind her. Elena felt a shiver go through her, and not from the chilly night. Warm hands caressed her bare arms. "What do you say we get out of here?"

Elena turned around in surprise and looked into pools of blue. She suddenly found herself unable to form words. She didn't know what came over her, but she nodded. The man took her by the hand and led her around the house, over to his car.

What am I doing? Elena asked herself as he held open the car door for her and she slid into the seat. She could smell the alcohol on his breath as he got into the driver's seat, and it mixed with his cologne. Together, they created a heady scent and Elena felt intoxicated by him. This was ludicrous, she told herself. They had barely said two words to each other, and still she willingly got in a car with him. With a complete stranger. Ok, so he wasn't a _complete_ stranger. She recognized him from the papers, but he was so much more in person. From the moment their eyes met across the room, she had known this was where it was headed. He was her destiny. God, could she _be_ more of a school girl?

As he pulled over to a posh apartment building, the nerves started to get to Elena. He was taking her to his apartment, where they would be completely alone. She should ask him to take her back, she should tell him…

But then he opened the car door for her and held out his hand. She took it, not daring to meet his eyes again.

The tension was thick as they rode the elevator to the penthouse in silence. Halfway there, Damon's lips crashed down on hers and she responded instinctively.

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><p>The next hour or so was a blur. Grey silk sheets, cool against her naked skin, was what Elena remembered most from that night. No, that was not correct. The thing she remembered most was the feeling of utter bewilderment and humiliation when Damon declared he was going to take a shower and he expected her to be gone when he got back. And of course the folded bills he threw on the bed as he passed her on his way to the bathroom.<p>

"What… is this?" she breathed.

"It's not enough?" he scoffed. "Honestly, I think I'm being generous. You should really work on your performance. It was all a bit… mechanical… to me. It was fun, though."

He disappeared into the bathroom and Elena gathered her clothes off the floor, tears threatening to spill. She didn't want anything to do with the money, but at the last moment, she decided to keep it. As a memento of the man that paid her 2 000 dollars for her virginity.

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><p>Elena opened her top drawer and glanced at the objects in the box she kept there. The bills he left her that night were still there, untouched. So was the journal she had kept during one of the most difficult times of her life. The memory no longer brought tears to her eyes; she had shut out that pain a long time ago. Ten years later, the contents of that box only filled her with one clear emotion. Vengeance.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: Oh, I found the title of the book I'm basing this story on - "A Past Revenge" by Carole Mortimer. Again, no copyright infringement intended. Enjoy!_

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><p>Bittersweet Taste of Revenge<p>

~ II ~

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><p>"So, your meeting is set for 10 o'clock tomorrow morning," Matt said, checking his filofax.<p>

"Andie Star," Elena sighed. "Remind me again why I'm taking this job?"

"Oh, I don't know… maybe because Damon Salvatore is offering double your standard fee…"

"I'm not taking his money, Matt."

"What?" Matt said, incredulous.

"I know what my pieces are worth and I will not be bought off."

"This isn't a buyoff, Elena. It's a generous offer. And from what I've heard about Andie Star, you'll deserve the bonus."

"I don't care. Tell him we'll send him a bill of our standard fee."

"I don't get you sometimes, 'Lena."

"End of discussion, Matt," Elena said.

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><p>Elena had never told anyone what happened that night. No-one except her aunt Jenna and her uncle John knew the truth. And that was only because she was left with no choice but to tell them.<p>

After she left Damon's apartment, Elena took a cab home and texted Bonnie that she got a terrible headache and went home. Bonnie was upset that Elena didn't tell her that she was leaving, but she got over it. Elena skipped her high school graduation, she felt too sick to be around people. It didn't affect her chances of a scholarship, though, and she got accepted to a college out of state.

Elena had worked hard to get where she was today. Damon Salvatore would _not_ ruin this for her. She refused to let the past define her future.

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><p>As the clock on the wall in her studio steadily approached ten, Elena felt her stress level increase exponentially. Matt noticed her fidgeting, and shot her a suspicious look.<p>

Elena thought her heart would leap out of her chest the way it was pounding against her ribcage as the doorbell sounded.

"Would you mind getting that?" Elena said to Matt, who did as she asked, still perplexed by her unusual behavior. He had never seen Elena so tense.

Elena walked over to the small kitchen area and got a bottle of water from the fridge, letting the cool liquid soothe her burning skin from the inside. She could hear Matt talking to the visitors.

"Right this way, Mr. Salvatore, Ms. Star. Miss Gilbert will be right with you."

"We said ten sharp," a female voice snarled. "Perhaps this 'artist' is not as committed to her profession as you presumed."

"Oh, get over yourself, Andie," a velvety voice drawled. The sound sent shivers down Elena's spine. How could he still affect her after all these years?

"But, Damon," she whined.

"Ms. Star," Elena said, approaching them with an outstretched hand, focusing on the dirty blonde. Elena flashed a warm smile, but the blonde ignored her outstretched hand and stuck her chin in the air.

Instead, the man with raven hair and piercing blue eyes stepped forward, took Elena's hand and kissed it. "Damon Salvatore. Pleasure to meet you."

His lips on her skin sent a chill through her and she quickly removed her hand. "Elena Gilbert. Thank you for coming. Did you have a specific angle in mind for the biography?" Elena asked, directing her query towards Andie Star. Instead, it was Damon who answered.

"It is to be published as a part of the campaign for our latest movie. It premieres two weeks from Sunday. Will you be able to finish it by then?"

"Of course," Elena replied formally. "I will need at least two interview sessions, and you'll of course have creative input on the finished product."

"I am familiar with your work, Miss Gilbert. I have complete confidence in your abilities," Damon said, his voice silky smooth.

"Thank you, Mr. Salvatore," Elena said politely. "When will you have time to sit down for an interview?" she asked Andie.

"We will work around _your_ schedule," Damon said.

"How is tomorrow morning, say around nine?" Elena said, again directing her question at Andie.

"She'll be here," Damon replied in her place. Man, was he arrogant.

They left in a hurry and Elena felt herself letting out a sigh of relief. So he hadn't recognized her after all. True, she had changed a lot in the last ten years. Her long silky hair was now coiffed in a curly bob and her figure was fuller now than when she was still a teenager.

"Well, that was… quick and painless," Matt offered.

"I'm not looking forward to this, Matt," Elena admitted.

"I'm sure she'll be more open when her benefactor isn't present."

"He's not just her benefactor, Matt."

"Well, I know _that_, but it's in his best interest to make her look good. She's the star of his movie, after all."

"Yes, I know, Matt. Thank you for coming in on a Saturday."

"Say, you wanna go grab some lunch?"

"Nah, I feel a headache coming on. I'm just gonna order some takeout and take a nap."

Elena said goodbye to Matt and called the pizza delivery service before heading to the kitchen and getting herself some aspirin. A few moments in the company of Damon Salvatore was obviously all it took to mess up her head. She changed into her sweats and waited for her food.

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><p>"Wow, that was quick," she mumbled to herself when the doorbell rang what seemed like minutes after she placed her order. She shuffled over to the door, grabbing her purse in the process. When she opened the door, she was still rummaging through it, looking for her cash. "Sorry, just hang on a minute," she said.<p>

"I can wait all day," a velvety voice drawled.

Elena's head shot up to meet piercing blue eyes under a mess of black hair. Her jaw dropped, and so did her purse.

Damon Salvatore was lounging against the doorframe, a smirk on his face and his arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Mr. Salvatore. Did you forget something?" Elena got out.

"I did, as a matter of fact."

"Yes?"

"I forgot to ask you if you would have dinner with me tonight."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, to be honest, I didn't _forget_ per se, I just thought I'd wait for a more appropriate time."

"You mean until your mistress was out of earshot?"

"Exactly," he smirked.

"No thank you," Elena said and moved to close the door.

Damon's foot shot out to stop her from shutting the door. "I'm sorry?"

"I said… No. Thank. You," she enunciated. "Now please remove your foot."

"Why?"

"So I can close the door."

"No, I mean, why won't you go out with me?"

"You want a list?"

"Did I do something to offend you?"

"Call me crazy, but I don't go out with men who are already involved."

"You want me to dump Andie?"

"No. I just don't want to go out with you."

"That's impossible."

Elena scoffed. "Cocky much?"

"_Very_ much," he wiggled his eyebrows.

"Have a nice day, Mr. Salvatore," Elena said and slammed the door shut, hitting his foot in the process. When he removed it, she closed and locked the door.

The next time the doorbell rang, Elena looked through the peephole before opening to make sure it was actually the pizza delivery guy this time.

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><p>Elena regretted setting the appointment with Andie at 9 am on Sunday morning as soon as her alarm went off. Groaning, she slipped out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom. The only upside to this whole arrangement was that her studio was also her home, and she didn't have to travel to get to work.<p>

Elena showered and slipped into a pair of jeans and a loose-fitted top. She blow-dried her hair and put on a light makeup. The clock struck nine and no-one appeared. Elena prepared a pot of coffee and sat down on a bar stool in the kitchen area. Just before ten, the doorbell rang. Sighing, Elena made her way over to the door.

Andie brushed right passed her without so much as a greeting. Elena closed the door behind her and walked over to the kitchen counter.

"Could I get you a cup of coffee, Ms. Star?" she offered politely.

"I don't have time for small talk. Where's your bathroom?"

"Um… it's through there…" Elena gestured to her bedroom door. It was an en-suite bathroom, and Elena was happy that her bedroom was always kept in pristine condition. None of her previous clients had ever asked for the bathroom. Her sessions were always short, so there was really no need to put in an extra bathroom for visitors. She may need to rethink that.

The clock showed 10.30 when Andie emerged from Elena's bedroom.

"I have a lunch meeting at 11.30, so we'll have to make this quick," she said and plopped down into a leather chair.

"All right, then we better get started," Elena said and set up her tape recorder and grabbed her notepad and pencil. "What made you decide to go into movies?"

"Are you hot for my fiancé?" Andie said abruptly.

"Excuse me?"

"Damon Salvatore. Are you into him?"

"Eh… I don't understand…"

"It's a simple question," Andie growled.

"I just met him yesterday," Elena lied.

"So? What'd you think of him?"

"I don't see how my opinion of your… fiancé is relevant for our interview."

"Well, I don't feel comfortable talking to people who are looking for dirt to make me look bad in front of my boyfriend."

"I assure you, that is _not_ my objective," Elena said patiently. "I was hired to do a biography, and for that to work, I will need your full co-operation, Ms. Star."

Andie sighed. "Fine."

Half an hour later, Elena was exhausted. She had barely scratched the surface of Andie Star, and with what little back story the woman had provided, Elena would not be able to write a flattering piece. Elena had a hard time believing Andie Star or her benefactor/fiancé would appreciate it if she wrote an accurate character description of the diva.

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><p>Elena had just finished typing up her notes and started an outline for the biography, complete with questions that needed to be asked during their next session, when the phone rang.<p>

"Hello?" she answered, exhaustion obvious in her voice.

"Hey sweetie, you sound tired. Is everything ok?"

"Uncle John. No, I'm fine. I just started a new project is all."

"Well, Jenna and I were talking, and we both agreed it's been too long since we've seen you. Will you come over to the house for dinner tonight?"

"Sure, I'd like that. What time?"

"Seven?"

"All right. I'll see you soon."

"Love you, kiddo."

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><p>Elena took a long bath to calm her nerves and soothe her aching muscles and before she knew it, it was already 5.30. She decided to dress up for a change, and instead of her usual jeans and shirt, she put on a patterned wrap dress and a pair of strappy heals.<p>

Elena was just about to exit her apartment when the elevator dinged. She locked the door and turned around, only to be confronted by Damon Salvatore.

"Going out?" he said, his eyes shamelessly raking over her body. The wrap dress hugged her curves and the heels accentuated her long, shapely legs.

"I am."

"Do you have a date?"

"I don't see how that is any of your business, Mr. Salvatore," she said coldly and walked passed him, stepping into the elevator.

Before the elevator doors closed, though, he stepped inside. Elena drew a breath, remembering too well the last time they had been in an elevator together, the way his lips felt against hers… snap out of it, Gilbert, she admonished herself.

"At least let me escort you to your car."

"That won't be necessary," she said frostily.

"Why so standoffish, Miss Gilbert?" he smirked. "Are you afraid of me?"

"I don't see why I would be," she said, regretting her words as soon as they left her lips. He would take it as a challenge, she was sure of it.

The glimmer in his eyes said she was correct in her assumption. He stepped closer, invading her personal space and causing her breath to hitch.

"Because…" he breathed in her ear, "… I'm a _very_ dangerous man."

His hot breath on her neck sent shivers down her spine and she shuddered. Amused at her reaction, he pulled back, a wide grin on his face.

The elevator doors opened on the bottom floor and Elena practically darted out. Damon followed close behind, catching up to her in the parking lot.

"Leave me alone," she hissed.

"Say you'll go out with me and I will," he winked.

"Never gonna happen," Elena said, unlocking her car door.

Damon's hand shot out and blocked her from getting in the car. "Never say never."

"Move," she growled.

Amused, he removed his hand and held the door open for her, waving her off as she sped out of the parking lot.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: Thank you for your sweet reviews. Enjoy!_

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><p>Bittersweet Taste of Revenge<p>

~ III ~

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><p>"You look pale," was the first thing out of John Gilbert's mouth when he opened the door for his beloved niece.<p>

"Thanks, _dad_," Elena joked.

"Oh, come on, you know I love you like my own daughter," he said and kissed her cheek. "So does Jenna. She's worried about you too, you know."

"There's nothing to worry about," Elena assured him.

When Elena's parents died and her aunt Jenna became her legal guardian, neither of them expected Uncle John to make an appearance. He had been an estranged member of the Gilbert family and was on an African safari when Grayson and Miranda Gilbert crashed their car, leaving their only daughter orphaned. However, hearing the news about his brother made him realize family was important, and he returned to the States, determined to make amends. He and Jenna Sommers, Miranda Gilbert's younger sister, had had an affair once, and Jenna was less than happy to see him again. However, over the years, the two grew closer and three years ago, they married. Now they were like Elena's parents, albeit young ones.

"So John tells me you've got a new assignment. Who are you writing about?" Jenna asked as they sat down to dinner.

"An actress. It's part of promoting her new movie."

"Oh? Anyone we might have heard of?" John asked, sipping his wine.

"Andie Star," Elena said and took a bite out of her garlic bread.

Jenna almost choked on her wine and quickly took a gulp of water before speaking. "Andie Star? Damon Salvatore's mistress?"

"Fiancée, she calls it, actually," Elena mumbled, "but yes."

"Are you ok?" John asked, reaching out to cover her hand with his own.

"I'm fine, John. It's just a job."

"Did you… I mean, has he… did you talk to him?" Jenna asked.

"I did."

"And?" John prodded.

"He doesn't remember me."

"Oh, sweetie…" Jenna said, her voice filled with compassion.

"No, it's fine. It's good, actually."

"I just wish you would have let me beat him up all those years ago," John said between clenched teeth.

"It wouldn't have done anybody any good," Elena said softly, squeezing his hand.

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><p>On Monday, the flowers started arriving. Elena told the delivery men and the florist to redirect all future deliveries to the children's hospital and inform Mr. Salvatore of what she had said.<p>

On Tuesday, the phone calls started. The first one she answered concerned setting up a second interview with Andie. She informed him that Ms. Star could come by on Thursday afternoon at five, if she wished. When the conversation turned over to the prospect of her having dinner with him, she quickly excused herself.

The second time the phone rang, she waited until he had said "Miss Gilbert. I would like you to reconsider…" before she hung up on him.

As he was calling on her landline, and she didn't have caller-ID, she was forced to answer every time the phone rang in case it was business related. As the day progressed, though, the phone calls were cut shorter and shorter.

"Miss Gilbert." _Click._

"Elena…" _Click._

When the clock struck five, she considered her workday to be over and unplugged her phone. Then her cell phone started buzzing. She ignored him.

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><p>Elena was just sitting down with a cup of tea, feeling relaxed after the bath she'd had, when there was a knock on the door. She looked at the time. Nine o'clock. Frowning, she tiptoed over to the door, looking through the peephole. Damon. Her heart began pounding against her ribcage and she backed away from the door, careful not to make a sound.<p>

"I know you're in there, Elena," his velvety voice cooed. "Come on, open up."

After a while, the knocking turned into banging. Furious, she threw the door open.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she hissed.

"Trying to get your attention."

"Mission accomplished. Now leave before I call the cops."

"Don't be like that…" he said, leaning towards her. She could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"You're practically stalking me and I want it to stop."

"You forget… _you_ work for _me_," he slurred.

"What is this – blackmail?"

"I could make your life _very_ uncomfortable," he said, his eyes smoldering underneath his messy black hair.

"Too late. Already there," Elena retorted. "Now get the hell out of my apartment building."

"Make me," he said huskily and leaned in to kiss her.

_Slap._

"I said. Get. Out," she hissed and slammed the door in his face.

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><p>Wednesday morning, Elena woke up with a headache to a buzzing cell phone. She looked at the display and accepted the call.<p>

"Matt?"

"Why is your phone off? I've been calling and calling."

"Oh… I turned it off last night. I needed to get some sleep. My cell phone was on vibrate, so I didn't hear you calling me until just now. Why? Did something happen?"

"Have you seen the papers today?"

"No, I just woke up. Why?"

"You're in them."

"I'm _what_?" Elena suddenly sat up straight.

"I'll email you the link, ok? Call me if you want to talk."

Elena was afraid to open the link Matt sent her. It was one of the bigger tabloids and she was filled with dread in anticipation of whatever lies they might have concocted about her. She flinched at the headline, _Damon Salvatore's latest mistress?_

There was a picture of her from her days as a cheerleader in high school, a picture of Damon with his arm around Andie on the red carpet, and a picture that was obviously taken last night. It was a picture of Damon leaving her apartment building, his hair mussed and a wild look in his eyes. The caption read, _Mr. Salvatore, benefactor and fiancé of diva Andie Star, was caught late last night leaving Ms. Elena Gilbert's residence after what may only be described as a heated encounter._

"Lies! Filthy lies!" Elena exclaimed, furious. Her reputation was impeccable. She did _not_ need the likes of Damon Salvatore to tarnish it.

Elena decided against plugging in her landline and headed over to her aunt's and uncle's house instead.

* * *

><p>She didn't hear a word from Damon and had almost started to forget the mess she was in until Andie Star turned up on her doorstep late Thursday afternoon.<p>

"I believe we had an appointment," the blonde said snarkily, striding past Elena.

"Um… yes… please, have a seat," Elena gestured to the couch.

"I need to use your bathroom first," the woman said and didn't even wait for Elena's acknowledgement before heading straight into the bedroom.

Elena waited impatiently for the woman to reappear. When she did, she remained on the couch for about half an hour before announcing she had someplace to be and taking off.

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><p>"It's hopeless," Elena told Matt on Friday morning, when he stopped by to check on her progress. "The woman won't talk to me. With the small piece of information she's given me, I couldn't write her obituary, let alone her mini biography."<p>

"Have you discussed it with Salvatore?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"Well, he _is_ the client."

"He's also the main reason why she won't talk to me."

"Were the tabloids right, 'Lena? Is there something going on between you and Damon Salvatore?"

"Of course not!"

"Then why…?"

"She's gotten it into her head that I'm after her fiancé!"

"You should get out of the apartment for awhile. Why don't I take you out to dinner tonight? My treat?"

"Thanks Matt, but I just…"

"You can't stay cooped up here forever. And what better way to show the world you're not seeing Damon Salvatore than to go on a date with your dashing agent?" he winked.

"You do always know how to make me laugh." Elena chuckled. "Ok, it's a date. And you better take me someplace fancy," she joked.

"You got it, sis," he kissed her cheek and headed out the door. "Seven, ok? Wear something pretty – if you can."

Elena stuck her tongue out at him and he laughed before walking out of the apartment.

Elena and Matt had been best friends since they were toddlers. Their parents had been best friends, and she and Matt were practically raised as brother and sister. When his parents split, though, his mom had moved them around a lot, and he had not been around for Elena's high school years. Thus, he had not been at the party that night. They had met again in college, though, and rekindled their close friendship.

* * *

><p>The restaurant Matt took her to was indeed one of the nicer ones in town. One that the rich and famous frequented. Elena's worst fears came true when she recognized the couple entering the restaurant just as she and Matt were being served their entrées. She hid her face behind the menu, hoping against hope she would go unnoticed by the new arrivals. No such luck.<p>

"Matt, Elena," a velvety voice drawled.

Slowly, Elena lowered her menu and raised her head to meet blue eyes that held a mix of emotions – playfulness and humor, but also jealousy and suspicion.

"Mr. Salvatore, Ms. Star," Matt greeted them politely, rising from the table. "Would you like to join us?" he said, a reflex in the company of clients.

Elena glared at him, and he realized his mistake too late.

"We would _love_ to, wouldn't we, Andie?" Damon smirked and pulled out the chair beside Matt for Andie. She sat down with a demonstrative huff of annoyance. Damon easily slipped into the seat next to Elena.

"So what are you two crazy kids having?" Damon said cheerfully.

"Actually, we were just about to have the main course, so perhaps you should have your own table after all," Elena said sweetly. "Wouldn't want you to miss out on the entrées."

"Oh, I'm more of a dessert man, myself," Damon said, his hand suddenly on Elena's knee.

Discretely, Elena grabbed a fork, slipped her hand under the table and jammed it into his hand. Damon almost knocked over a glass the way his hand jerked up. Elena bit her lip to stifle a giggle.

"Eh… well, as I was saying…" Matt said. "We ordered the steak. It's delicious."

"I don't eat meat," Andie proclaimed. "Or carbs."

Elena rolled her eyes. A future wife to an Italian who didn't eat carbs. Talk about a match made in heaven.

Damon seemed to have noticed her silent comment and a smile tugged at his lips.

* * *

><p>The dinner was excruciating, Elena thought. Matt prattled on nervously about anything that popped into his head. Andie looked bored. And Damon was putting double entendres into everything he said.<p>

When they had finished dessert, Elena felt relieved the night was coming to an end. She was mistaken, though, as a band started playing, inviting the guests to dance. Damon was quick to suggest Matt dance with Andie.

"She's always complaining I've got two left feet. You should show her how it's really done, Matt."

Elena squirmed in her seat as they were left alone at the table.

"Come on," he said and grabbed her hand.

"Damon, what are you doing?" she objected as he pulled her over to the dance floor.

"What does it look like?" he said and pulled her flush against his body. She could feel every muscle in his body move to the beat of the music and his strong arms led them across the floor effortlessly.

Before she knew it, they were out on a balcony, away from the dancing couples inside. She was still locked in his embrace and squirmed to get free.

"Let me go, Damon," she hissed.

"Are you seeing him?" he asked, his eyes boring into hers.

"That's none of your business."

"Is he your lover?"

"I repeat – None. Of. Your. Business."

"Damn it, Elena. Just tell me the truth. Are you sleeping with your agent?"

"No," she spat out.

"Then why won't you go out with me? Why are you avoiding me?"

"Is it so impossible to believe I'm just not interested?"

"Yes."

"Arrogant ass," she hissed.

"I know women, Elena. And I can tell you want me. Your body gives you away every time I'm near."

"Get over yourself!"

"I can prove it," he said hoarsely and the next thing she knew, his lips crashed down on hers, burning with barely leashed passion.

She almost gave in to the sensation. Then she remembered where she was and who she was with, and pushed him away.

"Hey there," Matt's voice sounded from the doorway and Damon took a step back, releasing Elena completely. "I wondered where you guys disappeared off to," he smiled, trying to cover his surprise at finding the two so entangled on the balcony.

"Elena needed some air," Damon said, shrugging, but his blue eyes blazed.

Andie simply glared at them.

"Yes," Elena said. "I was feeling a bit queasy. Actually, I think it's best you take me home now, Matt," she said and reached for his arm.

"Of course," Matt said quickly and escorted her back into the restaurant after a brief polite farewell to Damon and Andie.

* * *

><p>When Matt dropped Elena off at her apartment after driving in silence since they left the restaurant, he broached the subject.<p>

"Um… if there was something going on between you and Salvatore, you would tell me, right?"

"Of course, Matt. There's nothing going on. He's just being a bit… persistent. But I've made it clear I'm not interested in anything romantic."

"A man like Damon Salvatore doesn't give up that easily, 'Lena. Guys like him are all about the chase."

"What would you suggest I do? Sleep with him so he'll get bored and move on?"

"No, of course not."

"Thank you for dinner, Matt," Elena leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I'll talk to you soon, ok?"

Exhausted from yet another emotionally draining day, Elena took a quick shower, rubbing her lips to get rid of the feeling of his lips on hers. It didn't work. Sighing, Elena went over to her dresser and got out a set of pajamas. Pausing in front of the dresser, she pulled out the top drawer and opened the box she kept there. Was it her imagination, or had her diary been moved? The bills were still there, untouched. She picked them up and realized she finally had the chance to settle the score, so to speak. Matt said Damon wouldn't give up. Maybe he was right. She couldn't imagine anyone saying no to him. She herself sure as hell hadn't been able to all those years ago.

As she weighed the bills in her hand, a plan started forming in the back of her head. As Elena closed the drawer, she did so with renewed conviction. It was time to pay Damon Salvatore back.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: Thank you for your sweet reviews. I am actually following the plot of the aforementioned novel, so although I'm putting my own spin on things – adding and subtracting- the general plot will be carried out. Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Bittersweet Taste of Revenge<p>

~ IV ~

* * *

><p>Elena spent the weekend with John and Jenna, getting a much needed break from her life. They were concerned, of course, having seen the tabloids, but she assured them everything was under control.<p>

"You know how the papers blow everything out of proportion," she said.

"So you're saying he _wasn't_ leaving your apartment Tuesday night," John said.

"Pictures don't lie, do they?" Elena shrugged.

"Elena…"

"He came to see me and I threw him out, ok?"

John chuckled. "That's my girl."

* * *

><p>She had left the machine on and, as expected, when she returned to her apartment late Sunday evening, there were several messages for her. One was from Andie Star, informing her that her services were no longer required. One was from Matt, checking in. The rest were from Damon.<p>

Content with the fact that he had not given up, Elena took her time getting ready for bed, sitting down with a cup of tea in her robe and fuzzy slippers before returning his calls.

"Damn it, Elena," he exclaimed when he picked up. Clearly, _he_ had caller-ID on his landline. "Where have you been? Didn't you get my messages?"

"As a matter of fact, I just got back. I needed a break."

"So you stop answering your phone? Is that any way to run a business?"

"First of all, it's the weekend. Second, I had my cell phone."

"Which you didn't answer."

"Which has caller-ID," she clarified.

"So you're screening? What if I needed to talk to you about your work?"

"Did you?"

"No. But that's beside the point."

"What _is_ your point?"

"The point is… I wanted to talk to you."

"And I didn't want to talk to you."

"I wanted to apologize."

Elena's jaw hit the floor so hard, she was surprised Damon couldn't hear it over the phone.

"For what exactly?" she said when she had collected herself enough to speak in a steady voice.

"Do I have to say it?"

She could tell he was struggling. Damon Salvatore didn't _do_ apologies.

"How else would I know what you're apologizing for? It's a fairly long list…"

"I shouldn't have kissed you."

Elena drew a quick breath. "No, you shouldn't have."

"Go out with me."

"Is that a question or a demand?"

"Please," he added, more as a formality than anything else.

Elena bit her lip to stop herself from chuckling. 'Please' clearly wasn't one of the most used words in Damon Salvatore's vocabulary.

"Well, since you ask so nicely… but what about your fiancée? She didn't seem too happy the last time I saw her."

"It's over between us."

"Oh?" Elena couldn't help but be taken aback by the information. "That must have been a difficult decision."

"Hardly," Damon scoffed.

"So… if I were to accept – not saying I will – where would you take me on this date of yours?"

"It would be a surprise," he said surreptitiously.

"Of course it would," Elena rolled her eyes.

"Are you saying yes?"

"No."

"Are you saying no?"

"No."

"I'll talk to you soon, then. And Elena?" he added just as she was about to hang up.

"Yes?"

"Don't screen my calls anymore."

"Goodnight, Mr. Salvatore," Elena said and hung up.

Sighing, she leaned her head against the backrest of the couch. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Elena awoke to the sound of her doorbell. Dazed, she threw on her robe and wrapped it tightly around her petite frame. Yawning, she opened the door, her eyes still not fully open.<p>

The smell hit her first. Bread. Freshly baked bread. Her eyes opened to take in the sight before her. Looking dashing in a crisp black shirt and dark jeans, Damon Salvatore was on her doorstep, holding out a paper bag from the best bakery in town.

"Good morning," he smiled and walked right past her into the apartment.

Too tired to object to the intrusion, Elena simply shuffled over to the kitchen island and propped herself up on a bar stool.

"What are you doing here, Damon?"

"I thought I'd surprise you," he said, walking over to her espresso maker.

"You did. Mind telling me why you decided to surprise me this early in the morning? I need my beauty sleep, you know."

"Nonsense. It's humanly impossible to be more gorgeous than you already are," he said and grabbed the coffee beans off the shelf, putting them into the grinder. "I wanted to see you," he answered her question with a shrug.

"You couldn't see me at say nine o'clock?" Elena stifled a yawn.

"You let me in, didn't you?" he winked.

"Yeah, only because I was too tired to fight with you."

"See – perfect timing," he smirked.

Elena couldn't deny breakfast was delicious. She usually only had a bowl of cereal to start her day, and her body rejoiced at the fill of fresh ground coffee and moist, fluffy bread. So much so, in fact, that a small moan escaped her lips as she bit down on the still warm focaccia.

Damon's smirk grew even wider as he watched her. "Still unhappy with the wake-up call?"

Elena simply glared. She would _not_ give him the satisfaction of knowing she enjoyed every minute of her breakfast.

As she spotted the morning paper he had brought, a chill went down her spine. He must have seen the tabloids, right? The picture of her in her cheerleading outfit? She had changed a lot in ten years, but if he had any recollection of the night they spent together, he would recognize the schoolgirl in the photo. Sure, she had been heavily made up that night, in an attempt to make herself look older – what high school girl didn't? – but still… Did he know who she was? Did he care? Was this why he kept pursuing her? She had to know now, or her plan would completely backfire.

"Um… so… do you read everything the papers write about you?" she said, masking her concern under the pretense of making general conversation.

"I read reviews of my movies. I have my secretary assemble a file each month. I feel it's important to keep up with popular opinion."

"What about the tabloids?"

"Ugh, hardly. That's just mindless drivel designed to bring you down. I could care less what people think about me as long as they still go see my movies. Why do you ask?"

"Oh… well, my aunt does read the tabloids, and she says you're in them quite a lot. So is everyone you associate with."

"Is that why you're having doubts? You don't want to risk ending up in the tabloids?"

_Too late for that._ "Something like that."

"You have nothing to be ashamed of. You're a successful writer and you have an impeccable reputation."

"And I'd like to keep it that way."

"Then go out with me."

"Excuse me? Did you not hear what I just said?"

"I heard you. You're worried about your reputation. Then let's see each other in public. Only us sneaking around – although that certainly has its perks – would draw the tabloids' attention. We take things slow – and they'll be bored within days."

"I don't know, Damon..."

"Trust me on this. I know how to work the media. I'll pick you up on Friday night. 6.30."

"What should I wear?"

"Well, I'd say come as you are," his eyes raked over her body, her robe gaping somewhat to reveal her short silk pajama shorts, "but then we'd most definitely end up in the tabloids," he winked. "I'll make reservations at Alejandro's," he said in a more businesslike tone, thereby letting her know the dress code.

"Ok," Elena said softly.

"Ok? So it's a date?" he raised his eyebrows.

"It's a date," she confirmed.

"I'll see you Friday, then," he smiled and showed himself out.

Elena walked over to the living room area and flopped down on the couch. She ran her hand through her short, curly hair – tangled from a restless night – and sighed. Everything was going according to plan. Then why did she have a knot in her stomach?

* * *

><p>The closer she got to Friday, the antsier Elena got. She should back out. She should call him up and say she changed her mind.<p>

On Wednesday, a letter came in the mail. Frowning, Elena ripped the envelope open and pulled out the handmade invitation. In calligraphic style, it read _Bonnie Bennett and Luka Martin request the pleasure of your company at our wedding…_

Elena flopped down on the couch, invitation in hand. She stared at it in disbelief. She hadn't spoken to Bonnie in years, and she was inviting her to her wedding?

Bonnie and Luka had started going out a couple of days after the party at the Salvatore mansion, and they moved out of state a couple of months after graduation.

The two girls had kept in touch for awhile, but when Bonnie announced about two years later that she was pregnant, it was as if something died inside Elena all over again. Elena tried to be happy for her old friend, but it hurt too much. So they drifted apart. That was why she was so surprised to receive the invitation. Perhaps this was Bonnie reaching out, saying she wanted her old friend back in her life.

But Elena was no longer that carefree teenager Bonnie once knew – or even the devastated girl who lost her parents during senior year.

Sighing, Elena put down the invitation on the coffee table and walked into her bedroom. She took out her old journal, sat down on the edge of her bed and opened the book to a page she hadn't revisited in years.

_Dear Diary,_

_I don't know what to do. It's like there's this iron fist gripping my heart, squeezing out my heart's blood. I hear them fighting. Because of me._

_I kept telling myself I had come down with the flu, or maybe that my body was reacting to the depression I'd been carrying around. I was too sick to go to graduation, I was too sick to get a summer job before college. At times, I thought I caught… something… that night, something that was slowly draining the life out of me. Instead, it was the opposite. Life was __growing__ inside of me. _

_Aunt Jenna was with me when the doctor told me the news. I broke down completely. I stayed in my room for days, sobbing like there was no tomorrow. I refused to eat, and it wasn't until Aunt Jenna said I was harming the baby that I reluctantly started accepting the food she brought me._

_Now Uncle John's home. He moved in a couple of days ago and I can hear him and Jenna yelling at each other. I told Jenna the truth about what happened, and now she's told John. He wants to press charges. Statutory rape, he calls it. Then Jenna has to remind him that I had just turned 18, and that from what I told her, it was consensual. _

_I am so embarrassed. I can't believe how stupid I was that night._

"_At least she didn't catch something else," I hear Jenna saying._

"_She's __pregnant__, isn't that bad enough?" I hear John yelling._

"_We'll help her."_

"_That's beside the point! She was supposed to have a future. She was supposed to go to college. Now what? She's going to be one of those single teen moms? And __he__ gets off scot-free?"_

"_Elena doesn't want him to know."_

"_It's his kid, too. He should pay for it. It's not like he doesn't have the money."_

"_He also has influence. Who's to say he won't try to sweep everything under the rug? Deny paternity? I don't want her to go through that. She's been through enough already."_

"_It's not right."_

"_It's her choice."_

Elena closed the book on her memories, placing it back in the box with the rest of her mementos. The bills. The knitted booties that were never worn. The rattle that was never shaken. The nursery rhymes that were never sung.

Elena closed the drawer and pushed back the tears. Friday night was only the beginning. When she was done with Damon Salvatore, he would know what it felt like to have one's heart ripped out and stomped on.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: Thank you for your sweet reviews. Yet another short chapter... Google Translate was very helpful … These scenes do not exist in the book, btw. Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Bittersweet Taste of Revenge<p>

~ V ~

* * *

><p>Friday night.<p>

Elena looked herself over in the mirror. Her hair fell in silky curls to her cheeks, which were dusty pink from her shower and the blush she had applied. Her lips were glossed and her eyes smokey. The little black dress she wore hugged her curves and flowed around her knees, showing off her legs.

Her heart did a double-take when the doorbell rang. Why was she so nervous? Elena shook her head at her own folly and went to answer the door.

In his pinstriped suit, Damon Salvatore was a vision. His visual appeal was only emphasized by the blood red rose he held in his hand.

"Evenin'," he greeted her, holding out the rose.

"Smooth," she mocked, but took the rose.

"Well, you've made me up my game," he winked.

"Women usually fall all over you, huh?"

"They do."

Elena laughed. It was probably true.

"Well, this must be a welcome change for you, then."

"It's certainly refreshing," he agreed. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah, let me just put this in some water," she said and got out a vase from one of the kitchen cupboards. "All done," she said, returning to the door. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>The head waiter at Alejandro's showed them to the best table in the restaurant. Elena looked around the restaurant as Damon pulled out her chair before taking a seat opposite her.<p>

"People are staring," she whispered over the table.

"Can you blame them?" he quirked an eyebrow, giving her an appreciative look.

"They probably think I'm your latest mistress," Elena scoffed.

"Then they must be incredibly jealous," he winked.

"So what do you recommend?" Elena said, perusing the menu and dropping the subject.

"Alejandro makes a mean Chicken Parmesan."

"My favorite," Elena smiled.

"_Pollo alla parmigiano, per favore, __e una bottiglia__ di __sangiovese_," Damon said to the waiter, and Elena couldn't help being impressed by how the words rolled off his tongue so smoothly.

"So... you come here a lot?" Elena said as the waiter disappeared.

"Why, miss Gilbert, is that a pick-up line?" he winked.

"No," Elena blushed. Damn it, why was she so affected by him? "I just meant, they seem to know you here."

"Alejandro and my father were business partners once upon a time. The Chicken Parmesan is actually my great-grandmother's recipe."

"I thought your father was in the movie business like you," Elena said pensively, biting down on a breadstick.

"Publishing, actually, but when he first started out, he was a humble investor. Or well, maybe not so humble..."

"Arrogance runs in the family, huh?"

"What makes you say that? Have you met my brother?"

Elena froze. He had such a poker face that she couldn't tell if he was joking or not. She hadn't seen Stefan in ten years, but arrogance wasn't really a trait she associated him with.

"Have you met _you_?" she said instead and held her breath.

Damon chuckled and Elena relaxed.

"Touché. You should have met my father, though. My ... eh... _confidence_ fades in comparison."

"Should have?" Elena frowned.

"He died ten years ago."

"I'm sorry." Now that he mentioned it, Elena remembered it was all over the news back then. The tabloids quickly shifted their focus to playboy Damon Salvatore, though, so Guiseppe's death didn't stay in the limelight for long. It certainly hadn't been on _her_ mind the night she first met Damon.

"It was a long time ago," Damon shrugged and sipped his wine.

"Still... when you lose someone... it stays with you," Elena said sadly.

"Your parents?" Damon guessed.

"When I was 17," she confirmed and took a sip of her wine.

"I'm sorry, Elena," he said sympathetically and reached out to squeeze her hand.

Elena stared at their joined hands for a split second before pulling back. "Yeah, well... like you said... it was a long time ago."

"We're quite the pair, huh?" Damon remarked, trying to lighten the mood.

Elena shrugged.

Thankfully, just then, the waiter came with their order and distracted them from the gloomy topic.

* * *

><p>"Wow, this is amazing," Elena said after a few bites of the savory dish.<p>

Damon smiled. "So, Chicken Parmesan is one of your favorite foods… what about favorite book?"

"I would have thought you'd ask me about my favorite movie…"

"Well, you _are_ a writer..."

"Jane Austen. Pride and Prejudice."

"Is that a fact?"

"You sound surprised."

"I just didn't peg you as a romantic – or as someone who is willing to see past first impressions."

"I'm here with you, aren't I? Besides," she continued before he had a chance to say something clever, "that's not all that it's about."

"Tell me."

"Elizabeth Bennet is a strong female character. She refused to succumb to the pressure of her family situation or conform to society. She didn't change to please Mr. Darcy – she challenged him to become a better man."

"So that's the appeal? The concept that you can change a man?"

"They learned from each other. They both set aside their pride and their prejudices in order to find happiness as equal partners in a society where such notions were unheard of."

"And did you ever meet a Mr. Darcy?" he said, sipping his wine.

"I'm not looking for a man. At best, I've come across a few Mr. Wickham's."

"No-one you viewed as redeemable?"

"I didn't stick around long enough to find out."

"Why's that?"

"What's the point?" she shrugged. "Men only want one thing and once they get it, they're out the door."

"That's cynical," Damon said pensively.

Elena shrugged. "What about you? Favorite book – or should I say movie or play, since we're under the assumption that we can only take an interest in arts related to our careers."

"Taming of the Shrew," Damon laughed.

"It is _not_!" Elena glared at him with a twinkle in her eye and a smile tugging at her lips.

"Ok, ok…" he raised his hands defensively, laughing. "I have a lot of favorites, but one movie I would recommend, if you haven't seen it, is _La Vita è Bella_."

"It's a Wonderful Life?" Elena roughly translated.

"No. It's an Italian film by Roberto Benigni. It's about a man who uses his sense of humor to help his son survive the Nazi internment camp they're placed in."

"Humor can be a powerful tool," Elena agreed, picking at her plate.

"Keeps you from getting hurt," Damon said.

As their eyes met across the table, it was as if they had an understanding between them. Elena blinked away the thought and broke the connection by focusing on the wine in front of her. Focus, Elena, this isn't about friendship – it's about revenge.

"Ready for dessert?" Damon asked.

"Sure."

"Then let's go."

"Go where? We're in a restaurant; I _think_ they have dessert here."

"Oh, but I have a _tiramisù_ waiting in my refrigerator."

"Is this your way of luring me back to your apartment?" Elena said coyly.

"Is it working?" he said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Yes."

"Check, please!" he called out, making Elena laugh in the process. Let the games begin.

* * *

><p>Elena stiffened as Damon pulled into the parking lot outside his apartment building. Looking up at the sleek building a shiver went down her spine. He still had his apartment. She wondered briefly if he still had grey silk sheets in his bed, as well.<p>

"You ok?" he asked as they stepped out of the elevator.

"Yeah… why?"

"You got really quiet there…"

Elena shrugged. "So, where's this dessert you've been bragging about?" she said, looking around the open plan of the penthouse apartment. A masculine kitchen area, chrome dining room furniture, a sleek black leather couch, an impressive multimedia system, minimalistic and cold. It practically screamed playboy millionaire.

"Have a seat," he gestured to the couch and headed into the kitchen.

Elena walked over to the couch, but instead of taking a seat, she walked over to the bookcase, running her finger along the spines. Classics, all of them.

"See anything you like?" Damon came up behind her.

"Um… just… not what I would expect."

"What'd you expect?"

"I don't know, a fully illustrated Kama Sutra, maybe."

"Oh, I don't need books for _that_," he said in a low voice, his breath hot on her neck.

Elena casually walked over to the couch, pretending not to have heard. He followed her like a cat stalks a mouse and sat down on the coffee table, trapping her legs between his. She looked up at him in surprise as he dug a fork into the container he was holding, coming up with a mouthful of creamy, chocolate cake and holding it out for her to taste.

"Close your eyes," he said.

Elena hesitated for a moment, before biting her lip and closing her eyes.

"Open up…" he said teasingly.

Elena sighed, but parted her lips. Soon, she felt the creamy substance graze her lips and her tongue instinctively darted out to lick it. She heard him groan and her eyes flew open, taking in the darkening of his blue eyes.

"My turn," she said and took the fork from him, ignoring the spark their skin touching created.

He dutifully closed his eyes and instead of feeding him, she smeared the cream across his lips and leaned forward to lick it off. It didn't take long before his lips were on hers, the dessert long forgotten.

They pulled apart, coming up for air, and were left staring at each other. Elena abruptly rose from the couch.

"I should go."

"What?"

"I need to… I have to go."

"Elena…"

"Thank you for tonight. I had fun."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." _Everything._

"Elena…"

"I'll see you around, ok? Thanks again. Have a good night."

Damon was left staring at the closed door. A good night? Not bloody likely.

Elena pushed the elevator button and darted inside, waiting anxiously for the doors to close so she could fall apart. Breathe, just breathe, she told herself. Too soon. _Way_ too soon. She would _not_ go down this road again. She was the one who was in control this time. No feelings allowed.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: Thank you for your sweet reviews. Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Bittersweet Taste of Revenge<p>

~ VI ~

* * *

><p>As Elena was unlocking the door to her apartment, she could hear her phone ringing. She dropped her purse on the couch and picked up.<p>

"Hello?"

"Hey… I wanted to make sure you got home ok."

"I did. Thank you, Damon."

"So… um… when can I see you again?"

"I don't know."

"What about tomorrow?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Listen, I agreed to go out with you. It doesn't mean we're exclusive."

"So… what? You have a date?" he asked, incredulous.

"What if I did?" Elena shrugged. John had asked her to have dinner with him some time this weekend as Jenna was out of town, why not tomorrow?

"I don't want you seeing other people."

"You don't own me, Damon."

"Elena…"

"I'm tired. I'm gonna go to bed. Thank you for calling. Good night, Damon."

* * *

><p>"So… what's going on with you, kiddo?" John asked as they were digging into their steak dinner at their favorite restaurant, Le Grill.<p>

"Why do you ask?" Elena said, biting down on a French fry.

"I know Damon Salvatore's back in your life. How do you feel about that?"

"He's not 'back in my life', John, we went on _one_ date," Elena said defensively, realizing too late she had slipped up.

"You went out with him?" John gawked. "'Lena, what were you thinking?"

"You don't have to worry about me, John. I'm _not_ falling for him."

"You say that now… I just don't want to see you hurt by him again."

"I won't be," Elena said reassuringly.

Just then, a couple entered the Grill and Elena's smile faltered slightly. Noticing the sudden change in his niece's expression, John turned around to see Damon Salvatore with a leggy brunette by his side. Her hair was short and spiky and she was wearing a leather skirt that barely covered her ass…ets.

"Unbelievable," he growled, then turned back to Elena. "You want me to beat him up? He's had it coming for ten years…"

"No, John," Elena said decisively. "I'm handling this myself. And whatever you do, don't mention anything about what happened ten years ago."

Elena couldn't tear her eyes away, though, and when Damon's piercing blue eyes met her gaze, they blazed. Determined, he strode over to them, skank in tow.

"Elena," he greeted her coldly, sending an icy stare John's way. "Who's your friend?"

Elena realized John weren't that much older that Damon, and he certainly didn't look like her dad. "This is John," she said. "John, this is Damon."

John simply glared.

"Hi, I'm Rose," the spiky brunette said in a chipper voice and gave them a little wave.

"Nice to meet you," Elena said politely. The way Damon was looking at her and John, this woman – whoever she was – was clearly insignificant.

"Damon," Rose tugged on his leather-clad arm, "you promised me drinks," she pouted.

"That I did," he smirked. "Good to see you, Elena," he said casually and headed towards the bar.

"What was that about?" John said when the two were out of earshot.

"He thought you were my date."

"That's why he looked like he was ready to rip my head off?"

Elena chuckled. "I guess so."

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" John eyed her suspiciously.

"Positive. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to use the little girls' room."

John took a swig of his beer and tried to block out the thought that his niece was in way over her head.

* * *

><p>Elena was just leaving the ladies' room when she suddenly found herself trapped, muscular arms on either sides of her body, his hands flat against the brick wall in the hallway.<p>

"What the hell, Damon?" she hissed.

"What are you doing with that guy, Elena?"

"What are _you_ doing with that girl?" Elena retorted.

"Jealous?" he smirked.

"No, just making a point. Who I date or not date is none of your business, just like I could care less who you go out with."

"Rose is my cousin. She just broke up with her boyfriend and she wanted to go out drinking. I'm here to make sure she doesn't overdo it."

"How chivalrous of you," Elena said dryly.

"Who's the guy?"

"Well, I guess it's a day for family reunions," Elena shrugged. "John's my uncle."

"You're not on a date?" his facial expression softened.

"I'm not on a date," Elena confirmed in a soft voice.

"Why'd you let me think that, then?"

"I didn't. You _assumed_."

"And you didn't think you should correct me?"

"It doesn't change the fact that you don't own me. I'm free to do whatever and you have no right to tell me not to."

"My latest movie premieres tomorrow. I'm hosting an after party at my family's estate. Will you come as my guest?"

"I don't think so, Damon."

"Why not?"

"Well, for one thing, won't your ex-fiancée be there?"

"Yeah, but why should that matter?"

"Because it's disrespectful."

"Ugh, who cares?"

"_I_ care."

"You could always come by after she leaves…"

"That's the other thing… last night was…"

"Cut way too short," Damon interjected.

"Going too fast," Elena corrected.

"There's no such thing."

"Yeah, there is."'

"Elena…"

"There you are. I was beginning to think you fell in the toilet or something," John appeared in the hallway and Damon took a step back. "Everything ok here?" he said, eyeing them suspiciously.

"Fine," Elena said. "Are we about ready to leave?"

"You don't want dessert?"

"No. I think I've had just about all I can take for one night."

"Ok, then. I'll get the bill," John said and hesitatingly left them.

"When can I see you again?" Damon asked in a low voice.

"I'll let you know," Elena shrugged and walked away.

* * *

><p>"Hey, 'Lena, wanna go to a party?"<p>

"Matt?"

"Yeah, it's me. Who else would dare call you at 9 am on a Sunday?"

"Oh, I can think of one…" Elena muttered under her breath. "What's up?" she asked, pushing the tiredness out of her voice.

"I know it's last minute, but I was invited to this party tonight. It's a great networking opportunity."

"Where?" Elena frowned, growing suspicious.

"A… party… place."

"Why do you sound like you don't want me to know where it is?"

"Ok, so, this agent I met called me up and said there's this event happening, but it's only for people in the industry, and they don't want word to get around so as to avoid the paparazzi. So, unless we accept the invitation, we can't know where it is."

"Sounds shady to me."

"No, this guy… he's connected."

"As in the mob?" Elena gawked.

"No. Ok, sorry, wrong choice of words… he knows a lot of people, and he's giving us a chance to get in on the action."

"Why would he do that?"

"Why so suspicious?"

"I just don't like the sound of this, Matt."

"It's a party, 'Lena. How bad can it be?"

"No catch?"

"No catch. Ok, well…"

"Matt…"

"I might have agreed to introduce the two of you…"

"Matt!"

"Why not? You're not seeing anyone, are you?"

"No, but…"

"So? He's a nice guy, 'Lena."

"What's his name?"

"Mason Lockwood."

"_The_ Mason Lockwood? Big shot sports agent Mason Lockwood?"

"That's the guy."

"I don't want to be fixed up, Matt."

"It's not a fix-up. It's a networking opportunity. Sport stars need biography writers, too."

"Oh, fine… what time?"

* * *

><p>Matt hung up the phone with a sense of accomplishment mixed with overwhelming guilt. Mason Lockwood <em>did<em> want to meet Elena, and he _had_ invited Matt and her to this party weeks ago. Knowing his best friend's feelings on the matter, Matt had politely declined the invitation. But the call he received early this morning left no room for objections. Their presence was demanded, not merely desired. Matt had a feeling he was turning the woman who was like a sister to him over to the wolves.

* * *

><p>Elena had put on a dark purple halter neck dress and draped a crocheted shawl over her shoulders. Matt let out a low whistle when she opened the door for him.<p>

"Looks like someone's dressed to meet Prince Charming," he joked.

"Oh, shut up," Elena rolled her eyes and hooked her arm through his. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

* * *

><p>"Matt…" Elena said warily, instinctively pressing her heels into the carpet, simulating hitting the brakes as the car turned onto a road that felt all too familiar. "Where are we going?"<p>

"To a party."

"Yeah, I got that. _Where_?"

"I'm just following the directions I got a couple of hours ago."

"And did these directions tell you the exact location of this top secret party?"

"Don't be mad, ok?"

"Matt…"

"I couldn't say no. He's a powerful man."

"Matt…"

"We can't afford to make enemies, 'Lena."

"Matthew Donovan, turn this car around right this second," Elena demanded.

"Please, we'll just make a brief appearance, then we'll leave. I promise."

"So this was all a lie? The secret invitation, your agent friend?"

"Well, technically… Mason Lockwood _is_ a friend of mine, and he _does_ want to meet you."

"But…?"

"But I told him you didn't like people fixing you up, and I turned down the invitation weeks ago."

"But you couldn't say no to Damon Salvatore, huh?"

"'Lena, I'm sorry."

"No, you know what? We _should_ go. I want to meet this Mason Lockwood. I'm sure he's charming."

"Elena…"

Just then, the road opened up and they were treated to the breathtaking view of the Salvatore mansion. The garden lights and the full moon made for a spectacular apparition.

"It hasn't changed a bit," Elena breathed.

"Elena?"

Oh, no, did she say that out loud? She looked over at Matt, who was wearing a puzzled expression.

"I saw a picture of this house in one of those design magazines a few years ago. It looks the same way it did then," she said, thinking on her feet.

"Oh… Yeah, these old places don't really change much over the years, do they?"

"Guess not," Elena shrugged.

"You ready?" Matt looked over at her.

"Yes… let's go," she said and stepped out of the car.

* * *

><p>Stepping into the foyer, a new fear gripped her. What if Stefan and Caroline were here? From what she had read in the papers, they lived in Italy, but they could of course be visiting. Damon might not recognize the girl he had a one-night-stand with ten years ago, especially since he thought she was a prostitute, but Caroline definitely would.<p>

Matt noticed her tensing. "You ok?" he said in a low voice.

"I could use a drink," she said. "Will you get it for me, please?"

"Uh… sure. I'll be right back," Matt said and disappeared into the crowd.

"You came," a velvety voice whispered in her ear and she felt a warm body pressing up against her.

Elena slowly turned around, already knowing she would be looking into pools of cerulean. She braced herself.

"Yes, well, Matt said he'd introduce me to this guy he knows…"

Damon's eyes flashed in anger. "Is that so?" he said between clenched teeth.

"You didn't think I came to see _you_, did you? Not after I made it perfectly clear that _I_ would let _you_ know when I was ready to see you again."

"Don't play games, Elena," he let out a low growl and grabbed her arm.

"I could say the same thing to you," she hissed, meeting his stare defiantly and yanking her arm free.

"Everything ok here?" Matt appeared, carrying their drinks.

"Everything's fine, Matt," Elena said, taking one of the glasses. "I was just thanking out host for the lovely invitation," she flashed a fake smile.

Across the room, Elena spotted a familiar face that did not look happy to see her, and Elena's smile faded quickly.

"Um… would you excuse me," she said, handing her glass back to Matt, "I need to visit the ladies' room."

"I'll show you where it is," Damon volunteered.

"Thank you, but I'll ask one of the staff. Wouldn't want you to neglect your other guests."

"It's really not a problem…" Damon said between gritted teeth.

"Oh, but I insist," Elena smiled sweetly and left the two men behind to find a bathroom.

* * *

><p>It was an exquisite room, one that clearly had been fitted to accommodate the many guests that the Salvatores welcomed into their home over the years. Outside the actual bathroom, there was a powder room, complete with a plush futon, generous sinks, and large, lighted mirrors. Elena splashed her face with water to calm herself, then got out her compact and reapplied her make-up. Game face back on.<p>

She was just about to leave when another woman stepped inside, blocking her exit.

"We need to talk."

The woman's dirty blonde hair was curled and she was heavily made-up. She was wearing a sparkly black dress that looked more like a second skin than anything else, riding high on her thighs. Her black stilettos made her at least five inches taller.

"Is that so?" Elena replied calmly.

"Damon is mine."

"That's odd… seeing as how he dumped you."

"We break up all the time. It doesn't mean anything."

"Then I suppose you have nothing to worry about," Elena replied sweetly.

"He'll come back to me sooner or later. I prefer it to be sooner."

"Well, maybe you should be telling _him_ that instead of me."

"I'm telling _you_ to back off."

"I'm not doing anything," Elena shrugged.

"Oh, don't give me that crap. You think he'll fall in love with you and you'll live happily ever after? Well, forget _that_. Damon doesn't _do_ happily ever after – not with trollops like you."

Elena felt her fists clenching at her sides. She's not worth it, she told herself.

"Again, I'm not doing anything."

"Let me put it this way," Andie said and took a threatening step towards Elena. "If you don't stay away from Damon, I'll let the whole world in on your little secret."

Elena's jaw almost hit the floor, but she quickly composed herself.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," she stated calmly, despite the storm raging inside of her.

"Oh, I think you do," Andie's eyes glimmered dangerously.

"How…"

"Leave Damon alone or everyone will know the contents of your diary."

"You can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am. Think about what I said, miss Gilbert." She smirked as Elena brushed past her, "Enjoy your evening."

* * *

><p>Pushing back the tears, Elena scanned the crowd for Matt. She finally found him, talking to a tall, muscular blond man with slightly wavy hair.<p>

"Matt!"

"'Lena, hey. This is my friend Mason," he said, gesturing to the smiling man beside him.

"Hi. It's nice to meet you," Elena managed a smile before pulling Matt aside. "We need to leave."

"Why? What happened?"

"I… I can't… please just take me home," she pleaded, her eyes watering.

"Ok, ok, we'll go right now."

"I'll be in the car," Elena said and hurried towards the exit.

"Elena…" Damon's voice called out to her.

She ignored him. He caught up with her in the front yard and grabbed her arm to spin her around. Noticing the tears in her eyes, he let go.

"What happened?"

"Nothing. I just… I can't be here."

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't do this. You, me, whatever _this_ is, I can't do it."

"Tell me what got you so upset," Damon demanded.

"Goodbye, Damon."

"Elena!"

She all but ran to Matt's car, and spent a moment frantically tugging on the handle before he reached her. Matt pressed a button and the doors unlocked. Elena got in and slammed the door shut behind her.

"You wanna tell me what that was all about?" Matt said when they were on the road.

"I don't wanna talk about it, Matt."

"Ok, but…"

"I need to get away for a few days. I'm thinking of going on vacation."

"Ok…"

"You can't tell anyone, ok? I'll keep my cell phone with me so you can reach me if you need anything, but no matter what, no-one is to know where I am. Got it?"

"Got it."

Elena sighed and leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: Thank you for your sweet reviews. Definitely straying over to more TVD-type scenes here… Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Bittersweet Taste of Revenge<p>

~ VII ~

* * *

><p>Florida was great. Elena spent a whole week at the beach, and when her planned vacation was almost up, she called Matt.<p>

"Hey, listen… um… I'm thinking about staying for another week or so. Have you gotten any new assignments?"

"Uh… no, but Elena… you should really come back."

"Why? Did something happen?" Elena suddenly sat up in her beach chair, digging her feet into the warm sand.

"No, everything's fine. It's just that… well, Mr. Salvatore has been really persistent. I don't know for how much longer I can keep your location a secret."

"Oh, Matt," she shook her head. "I'll take care of it."

* * *

><p>Elena took a sip of her drink and dialed the number that had made a frequent guest appearance on her "missed calls" list over this past week.<p>

"I don't want to talk to you," she said as soon as he picked up.

"You're calling me to tell me you don't want to talk?" he asked, amusement in his voice.

"That's right," she proclaimed.

"So… I guess you don't want to see me either, then?"

"I see you're finally catching on…"

"Oh, I see perfectly… By the way, I think you could use a little more lotion on your back. The Florida sun can be pretty brutal this time of day."

"What are you…" Elena sat up straight, starting to look around.

"Let me," a velvety voice drawled behind her, reaching down to pick up the sun block and squirting the milky liquid into his palm. "Wouldn't want you to get burned."

"Damon!"

"Turn around," he said, rubbing his hands together.

Elena sighed, but turned her back towards him. Despite the heat, Elena shivered when his soft hands started moving in circular motions on her back, covering every inch of her bare skin with sun block.

She gulped. "So… how did you find me?" she asked in what she hoped was a cool and composed voice.

"Isn't modern technology the greatest? Every time you used your cell phone, it sent this little signal out into the universe, telling the world where you were – or, more precisely – telling anyone who was looking for it."

"Sounds like a lot of trouble to go to just to hear in person that I want you to leave me alone."

"See… your body tells a different story," he said huskily, his hands leaving her shoulders and slowly moving down her arms. Elena shivered.

"It doesn't matter," she got out. "My head rules my actions."

"Well, then I think your head needs some things to think about. Let's go out to dinner tonight. We can clear up any doubts you have about me."

"It's not that simple," Elena said, almost to herself.

"I'm making it that simple. Now, I'm staying at the Marriott. They have an amazing cuisine."

"I'm not going over to your hotel, forget it."

"Ok, then. We'll go somewhere else. You decide."

Elena bit her lip. "Bree's Bar and Grill, on Georgia Street."

"Done," he said with a smile.

Elena had expected him to turn up his nose at her suggestion, giving her the perfect opportunity to back out. No such luck.

"Well, I better go get ready for our date," he said and kissed her cheek. "I'll pick you up at seven."

"Wait- you know where I'm staying?"

"The wonders of modern technology," he smirked and took off.

Sighing, Elena flopped back down on her beach chair. This was _not_ a good idea.

* * *

><p>When Elena stepped into the lobby she was wearing jeans and a purple loose-fitting halter neck top. Damon was waiting for her, dressed in dark jeans and a black button-down shirt with the first button undone. Man, he looked good. Elena shook her head to rid herself of her wayward thoughts and walked up to him.<p>

"Ready, Miss Gilbert?" he offered his arm.

"Let's go," she said, ignoring his chivalrous attempt. It was far too hot outside to link arms with anyone – especially with the man whose every touch sent a burning sensation through her body.

They stepped into Bree's Bar and Grill, where the music was booming and the restaurant teeming with people.

"Busy night, I guess," Damon shrugged.

"No, it's always like this," Elena replied, walking over to the bar.

"Always? How often do you come here?" Damon frowned, following her.

"I've been in here every day since I got here. Bree and I really hit it off."

"You make new friends easily," Damon commented.

"When they're worth my time," Elena shrugged.

"Ouch," Damon feigned hurt, covering his heart with his hand.

Elena ignored him. "Hi, Bree, can I have two orders of the usual, please? And hold the pickles," Elena added, talking to a tall curly brunette behind the counter.

"Don't I know it," the woman whose name was apparently Bree laughed. "Who's your friend?" she nodded towards Damon.

"Oh, he's not a friend, he's an ass," Elena replied.

Bree eyed the man standing just behind Elena, tilting her head to get a better look. "It's a hot ass, though…"

"Wow, I'm surrounded by classy ladies, aren't I?" Damon scoffed, trying to hide his amusement.

"You're free to leave any time," Elena shrugged.

"And deny the girls in this place the excellent view? I think not," Damon said smugly and hopped up on a bar stool. "Bree, is it?" he stretched out his hand over the counter. "Damon Salvatore."

"Hello, gorgeous," Bree purred and Elena rolled her eyes.

* * *

><p>A few minutes later, they were served their food and Elena dug into her burger ravenously. Damon watched her with an amused expression on his face.<p>

"What?" she asked, annoyed.

"Nothing, I just… I never pictured you like this."

"Like what? Eating?"

"You're always so cool and composed, delicate, refined… well, except for when you're fighting me, of course."

"And now?" Elena took a swig of her beer, straight from the bottle.

"You're fun."

"Fun?"

"Yeah, fun. You know that thing where you don't take yourself so seriously?"

"Huh… fun, you say? Is that also that thing when you're not being an arrogant ass?"

Damon laughed. "Oh, I'm always fun…"

"Just eat your food," she sighed.

Damon chuckled and bit into his burger. "No pickles?"

"I don't like them," Elena shrugged.

"Well, _I_ do."

"Then ask Bree for some. I'm sure she'll give you the whole jar if you flirt with her enough."

A huge grin spread across Damon's face. "You're jealous?"

"No!"

"You are!"

"Ugh, can you _be_ more annoying?" Elena rolled her eyes.

Damon simply chuckled and continued eating his burger.

* * *

><p>"You up for a game of pool?" Damon asked when they had finished their burgers.<p>

"Why not?" Elena shrugged, grabbing her second bottle of beer off the counter and striding over to the pool tables.

Damon watched her in amazement. Who was this girl?

"You wanna break?" Elena asked, racking.

"Be my guest," Damon said casually, enjoying the view that Elena leaning over the table afforded him.

Elena made the first shot and smiled when several of the balls went into the pockets. She started to line up her next shot when Damon sauntered over to stand beside her, blowing in her ear. Elena lost focus and missed the shot.

"Hey!" she exclaimed indignantly.

"Oops… too bad," he clicked his tongue, shaking his head, "you know, I could show you…"

"I know how to play pool, Damon," she huffed, "you distracted me."

"You keep telling yourself that…"

"You think you can do better? Go ahead," she said, shoving the cue in his hand.

Damon smirked and leaned in to line up his shot. Elena started twirling the hair in the nape of his neck.

"Do you mind?" he looked over at her.

"Not at all," she said and removed her hand, only to move it to his lower back, trailing her fingers along the waistband of his jeans.

Damon missed his shot.

"Too bad," she pouted and took the cue from him, walking around the table to line up her next shot.

"Here, let me help you," Damon said quickly and moved to stand behind her, leaning over to cover her arms with his.

Elena tried her best to ignore the sensation of his body pressed against hers, but when he started nibbling on her ear, she gave up and put down the cue.

"I'm tired, we should call it a night," she said abruptly, moving away from him.

"Uh… ok… I'll take you home," Damon agreed and they left the bar without another word to each other.

* * *

><p>"Thank you for walking me to my room," Elena said as they stepped out of the elevator at her hotel.<p>

"My pleasure," Damon said, following her over to the door marked 1201.

"I had fun," Elena said, inserting the key card into the door.

"Me too."

"Yeah, so… um… goodnight," she said and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Goodnight," Damon said and brushed her lips with his own.

They stood, searching each other's eyes for a moment, until Elena's right hand grabbed the back of Damon's neck, pulling him towards her. Damon responded instantly, backing them into the room.

Elena simply held on tighter when he grabbed her under the buttocks, lifting her up to wrap her legs around his hips. He pressed her up against the wall and started showering her with kisses – her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. Elena's head fell back and she caught herself moaning. He carried her over to the bed and when her head hit the soft pillows, Elena realized what she was doing.

"No!" she pushed him away.

"Elena, what's wrong?" Damon asked, puzzled, breathing heavily.

"You have to leave. Now."

"Elena…"

"Leave!"

Confused, Damon reluctantly got off the bed and left the room.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Elena broke into sobs. She had wanted him just now. It wasn't about revenge – it was about desire. This couldn't happen. No feelings were allowed. And what if this got back to Andie somehow? Elena couldn't bear the thought of the whole world finding out about her baby. She had kept it a secret for ten years. It could _not_ come out now.

Luckily, Damon was never mentioned by name in her diary, and Elena didn't know how much Andie had read. Maybe she only knew about the pregnancy? Well, that was bad enough. Knowing she had a child might change things for Damon. Knowing it was his… no, he could never know. It was _her_ baby, no-one else's. Letting him know that they had a child would bind them together, make this about more than revenge. No, her baby's memory was too precious to be sullied by this.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: Thank you for your sweet reviews. As this story is based on a novel, written sometime in the 80s, I've had to make some adjustments to fit the plot into present day. However, some of the views expressed here were probably more commonplace back then, but I'm trying to reconcile them with today's standards. _

_Btw, the reason for the chapters being so short is that I have a couple of plot events happening, and they need their separate chapters. I'm estimating another 2-3 chapters of this story. Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Bittersweet Taste of Revenge<p>

~ VIII ~

* * *

><p>Elena left the hotel early the next morning, catching the first flight out. She went straight from the airport to her aunt's and uncle's house.<p>

"Wow, you look so tanned," Jenna exclaimed as she wrapped Elena up in a hug.

"A week lounging in the sun will do that to you," Elena chuckled.

"So, any particular reason you made our house your first stop?" John said, bringing in her suitcases from the cab. "Not that I'm complaining," he added, hands in the air.

"I just didn't feel like going back to my empty apartment just yet," Elena shrugged.

"Well, you're welcome to stay here as long as you like. Isn't she, John?" Jenna said, a big smile on her face.

* * *

><p>Elena awoke the next morning to the smell of coffee. She smiled, reveling in the homey feeling the scent created. She slipped on a robe and tiptoed into the kitchen. Clearly, John was doing the cooking, as the pancakes weren't burning.<p>

"Morning," Elena smiled.

Puzzled, she noticed John stiffening slightly before turning around to face her.

"What's wrong?" she frowned, noticing the odd expression on his face. He was clearly worried about something, but desperately trying to hide it. John never did have the best poker face.

John nodded silently to the morning paper on the counter. Tentatively, Elena walked over and picked it up. Her hands were trembling when she opened it to the society pages. There it was. A picture of her and Damon on the beach, with him applying lotion to her back. The caption read _Damon Salvatore and latest mistress Elena Gilbert were spotted soaking up the sun in sexy Florida this weekend_.

"No," Elena breathed, putting down the paper in trepidation, backing away as if not being able to see it would make it any less true.

"Elena… are you seeing him?" John asked, plating the pancakes he'd made and setting them down on the table.

"No! He showed up, I didn't…"

"It's only gossip," Jenna said, coming into the kitchen, "they'll find someone else to stalk and move on within the week. This'll all blow over soon, you'll see," she said reassuringly.

No, this would _not_ blow over any time soon. Elena felt a cold hand gripping her heart. Andie would retaliate.

* * *

><p>"Matt!" Elena exclaimed when her friend and agent came on the line.<p>

"'Lena, hey. Did you see the paper?" he asked, sounding shell-shocked.

"Damn right I did. Listen, you need to do damage control. You still have that friend at the Inquirer?"

"Logan Fell? The guy's a douche, 'Lena."

"I know, but do you think he'll do you a favor?"

"Doubtful."

"I just… there can't be any more stories about me and Damon – especially not about _me_. Offer him… ugh, I don't know… offer him a year's worth of articles. I'll write anything."

"'Lena, what's going on? Is there something you're not telling me? Do you have some deep dark secret you don't want exposed?"

If only he knew how right he was. "I just don't want my name in the papers, unless it's in a byline."

"I'll talk to him, but I can't promise anything. He's a shark, 'Lena."

"Please try. Oh, I gotta go, I have call waiting."

"Ok. Take care. And try to relax, ok?"

"Easier said than done," Elena muttered to herself, and pressed a button to take the other call. "Hello?"

"I just wanted to give you a head's up," a female voice drawled. "You'll be prominently featured in tomorrow's papers. And don't worry, I'll make sure Damon gets a copy," she added sweetly, her voice dripping with disdain.

"Andie, please don't do this," Elena begged. "I tried to stay away from Damon. He followed me to Florida. I didn't _do_ anything."

"Oh, come on, you know as well as I do that Damon loves the chase. But I know something about Damon that you don't," she said tauntingly.

"What?"

"Damon's a traditionalist when it comes to certain things. Such as you don't have children out of wedlock. He would never raise another man's child as his own."

Elena swallowed hard, biting her tongue to not let herself get baited by Andie. Had the spiteful woman been standing in front of her right now, Elena just might have slugged her.

"Go ahead and spread your lies," Elena said coldly. "He'll never speak to you again."

"Maybe not, but he sure as hell won't be seeing _you_ again, either," Andie hissed and hung up.

* * *

><p>Later that night, when she had settled back into her apartment, Elena's phone buzzed.<p>

"Hello?" she answered sleepily.

"Hey," a soft velvety voice said, "did I wake you?"

"No… I was just about to climb into bed," Elena said, folding back the covers. "Why are you calling?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Why?"

"Why? Elena, that night in Florida…"

"Was a mistake," Elena completed his sentence.

"No!" he said fiercely, "the only mistake was that you kicked me out. Please, Elena, talk to me. Why do you keep pushing me away? Why do you keep fighting this thing between us?"

"I'm tired, Damon."

"I think I'm falling in love with you," he blurted out.

"What?" Elena was suddenly wide awake.

"I know it's crazy… and soon… but I just… I haven't felt this way before… about anyone."

Elena started tearing up, suddenly incredibly grateful that they were having this conversation over the phone and not in person.

"I'm sorry, Damon, I…"

"You don't have to say anything. It's fine. Listen, I need to go out of the country for a little while, but when I get back… do you think we could give this… _us_… a shot?"

"You're leaving?"

"The day after tomorrow, yes. Family obligations."

"You may change your mind about all this…"

"I won't. I promise, Elena, I won't."

"Ok," she said, resigned.

"Ok?" his voice filled with hope.

"Ok," she confirmed.

* * *

><p>The story broke the following day. The phones started ringing off the hook, reporters trying to get a comment. Elena finally just unplugged her phone and turned off her cell. It was late when Damon finally showed up at her doorstep. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair messy and he reeked of alcohol. Elena opened the door and stepped aside to let him in.<p>

"Were you ever going to tell me?" he said, his voice cold.

"It's private. At least, it used to be."

"Private? The hell it is, Elena. Don't you think I deserve to know that the woman I'm courting - that I'm falling in love with - has a child?"

"I never pretended to be something I'm not to seduce you, Damon. Need I remind you that _you_ pursued _me_?" Elena spat out.

"So where's the kid? You got tired of it? Put it up for adoption? Or did you just have an abortion? Couldn't be troubled with raising a kid, huh? That would have put a dent in your career, right?"

_Slap_.

"How dare you?" Elena hissed.

"Then tell me the truth, Elena. What did you do?"

"You have no right to come into my home and make accusations! I don't owe you anything, Damon, and what happened is none of your business!"

"It is when it tells me what kind of woman you are," he retorted.

"You don't know the first thing about me!"

"Then by all means, enlighten me!"

"There is no baby, ok?" Elena spat out.

All the color drained from Damon's face and he slumped down on the couch, staring up at her. "It was all a lie?"

"No. The papers were right. I _was_ pregnant. I went into premature labor. My baby didn't survive the night." Elena turned away from him, walking over to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine. She got out a tumbler and poured a Scotch for Damon, walking back to the couch and handing it over.

"I'm so sorry," he said sadly, "I jumped to conclusions."

"Yeah, you did," Elena said coolly, taking a seat opposite him.

"What about the father?"

"We spent one night together. After he got what he wanted, he kicked me out of his apartment."

"Bastard!" Damon growled.

"Yeah, you could say that…" Elena said, taking a gulp of her wine.

"Do you still see him around?"

"Occasionally."

"And you don't have any feelings for him?"

"Nothing but disdain."

"Good."

"What are we doing here, Damon?" Elena sighed. "Is this how it's going to be? You'll jump down my throat as soon as you think I'm not who you want me to be?"

"No," he said, shaking his head, putting his glass down on the table and walking over to her. He cradled her face and forced her to look into his eyes. "I'm sorry. It's just… the thought of you being bound to some other guy for the rest of your life… it drives me a little crazy."

"So you're saying it would be a different situation if my baby was still alive?" Elena frowned, pulling out of his gentle grasp.

"That's not the situation, though."

"Damon…" she said, a warning tone in her voice.

"Listen, maybe this trip is really well timed. We could both use some time to think. Can I call you while I'm away?"

"I don't know, Damon…"

"Please?"

"Ok."

"Thank you," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek and stumbling back out the door.

Elena sunk back against the couch, running a hand through her hair. The way he had just acted, bringing up hurtful memories, rekindled her desire for revenge. When he got back from his trip, he would get a taste of his just deserts*.

* * *

><p>* "just deserts": A punishment or reward that is considered to be what the recipient deserved. Oddly <em>not<em> spelled "desserts".


	9. Chapter 9

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: Thank you for your sweet reviews. There will be one more chapter and an epilogue for this story. __Enjoy!_

_Btw, as I am close to finishing this story, I just got another story idea for an AU-fic… based on yet another novel like this story is based on. Would anyone like to read that? : ) _

* * *

><p>Bittersweet Taste of Revenge<p>

~ IX ~

* * *

><p>Damon's trip took longer than expected, and even though they talked every day, Elena found it easier to stay detached when he was across the Atlantic. When he suggested she come and stay with him at the Salvatore mansion the weekend he got back, Elena agreed. He was providing her with the perfect opportunity for her revenge.<p>

"My flight comes in early Saturday morning. I could pick you up at your apartment and we'll go to the house together," Damon suggested.

"Uh… actually, I'll just meet you there. You should probably get some rest first. Jet lag and all that."

"I'll be fine. It's not my first time travelling to Italy, you know."

"How is your family?"

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. I'm an uncle now, can you believe it? Caroline had a beautiful baby girl late last night, they're naming her Stephanie."

"I'm happy for you," Elena said, struggling to sound genuine. It wasn't that she wasn't happy for Stefan and Caroline, but mentions of babies always chipped away at the hole in her heart.

"I'd like you to meet them some day. Caroline's always been a ditz, but she has a good heart, and she's good for my brother. He was always such a brooder before he met her."

"Yeah, well, we'll see…"

"Elena?"

"Huh?"

"Nothing. I just… I can't wait to see you."

"See you Saturday, then."

"Saturday it is," he said content before they said their goodbyes.

Saturday... Elena walked over to her dresser and opened the top drawer, gazing at the objects inside. A few more days and Damon Salvatore would be out of her life for good. With a heavy heart, she closed the drawer again and went about her day.

* * *

><p>Early Saturday morning, Elena got up, took a long shower and got dressed. She needed to get out of the house, just in case Damon decided to surprise her and stop by the apartment on his way back from the airport.<p>

She quickly packed an overnight bag and put the wad of hundred dollar bills in one of its compartments before leaving.

Elena spent the day at the spa, getting herself primped. The different parts of her body were exfoliated, waxed, plucked, massaged and painted. She emerged hours later, feeling relaxed and confident with her appearance. Her makeup was flawless and her hair perfectly styled. She checked the time and saw that she still had several hours until nightfall. She decided to go for a drive in the country and brought along a picnic basket.

When Elena decided that she had kept Damon waiting long enough, she got back in her car and headed for the Salvatore mansion.

She didn't have time to react before her car was sent into a tailspin and ended up in a ditch. The last thing she remembered was the sound of the air bag exploding. The rest was darkness.

* * *

><p>When Elena woke up in the hospital, the doctors told her she was incredibly lucky. All she had to show for her accident was a sprained wrist and a few bruises. When she was released from the hospital, she turned her cell phone on. Her voicemail was full.<p>

_6.30 pm._ "Hi, um… I thought you'd be here by now. Everything ok?" _Beep_.

_7.10 pm_. "Elena, why haven't you called? I'm waiting for you." _Beep_.

_7.45 pm_. "Seriously, Elena, where are you? Call me." _Beep_.

_8.20 pm_. "Damn it, Elena, just pick up the phone and talk to me!" _Beep_.

_9 pm_. "You know, I just don't get you. You could at least have the decency to tell me yourself that you don't want to see me!" _Beep_.

_9.15 pm_. "I'm sorry. I'm really starting to worry about you. Please call me back." _Beep_.

_9.30 pm_. "Ok, I'm filling up your voicemail here. Just… please…" _Beep_.

_Voicemail full._

Elena sighed. After reassuring John and Jenna that she was fine, she decided to go see Damon in purpose.

* * *

><p>It was early Sunday evening when Elena pulled up to the Salvatore mansion. She got out of the car and walked up to the heavy wooden door, letting the door knocker announce her presence.<p>

"Elena! What the hell? Do you have any idea how worried I've been? I was…" Damon stopped in his tirade when the fading light hit her features, displaying her bruises. "What happened?" he breathed.

"It's nothing. I got into a car accident on my way here and I had to take a detour to the hospital so they could patch me up."

"I knew I should have picked you up myself," Damon shook his head.

"Don't be silly. It wasn't your fault. The car came out of nowhere. It could have happened to anyone."

"But it didn't. It happened to you," he said, his voice filled with sadness and regret as he reached out to gently caress her cheek.

"I'll be fine," she reassured him. "It's just a couple of bruises and a sprained wrist, see?" she held up her bandaged wrist for inspection.

"Well… then I hope you'll let me play doctor for awhile," Damon smirked.

"I…"

"Oh, relax, Elena, I'm not gonna take advantage of you in your impaired state. But I _am_ going to insist that you stay here so I can keep an eye on you until you're fully healed."

"I guess I could agree to that."

"Good. I'll have Rick go over to your apartment and gather some of your belongings."

"Rick?"

"My driver. He's an excellent multi-tasker."

"I don't feel comfortable having someone go through my things…"

"Yeah, you're right. I wouldn't want anyone else to go through your underwear drawer. I'll go."

"No. Um… listen, I have an overnight bag in my car. It'll suffice."

"Oh… okay. I'll have Rick bring it up to your room."

* * *

><p>As Elena was getting dressed for dinner up in her room – suite was a more accurate description – she was happy she had decided to stuff her bag with more than one set of lingerie. It had been a question of indecisiveness on her part, not knowing what set to wear for the occasion and finally just stuffing whatever she could find in her underwear drawer into her overnight bag. She also had several dresses packed, and for tonight she decided on a simple black wrap dress that hugged her curves.<p>

When she got downstairs, she looked around the empty dining room. "Damon?"

"In here," he called out. She followed the sound of his voice and ended up in the kitchen. Damon stood by the stove, stirring a sauce of some kind.

"You're cooking?"

"You tell me," he turned around, holding out a wooden spoon.

Elena took a few steps forward, capturing the tip of the spoon with her lips. "Wow," she said and licked her lips.

Damon quickly turned back to the stove and checked on his pasta.

"It's ready. Go on, have a seat," he nodded towards the small wooden table in the country-style kitchen.

Two plates were set and there was a bottle of wine on the table. Another bottle served as a candle stick. The wax from the white candle had dripped over the bottle and created an old-world antique look.

Elena took a seat at the table and watched as Damon plated the pasta and drizzled the sauce over it.

"You don't have a problem with carbs, do you?" he joked as he set down the plate before her.

"No," Elena chuckled and took the fork in her hand, twirling it around to get the pasta. The feat was proving difficult as her left wrist was sprained and she couldn't use the spoon to make sure the pasta stuck to her fork. Damon saw her struggling and pulled his chair over to her.

"Here, let me," he said and took the plate from her, gathering a mouthful of pasta and sauce on the fork and raising it to her mouth.

"You don't have to feed me," Elena said, slightly embarrassed.

"Gotta make sure you get your strength back soon," Damon smirked. "Now open up."

Elena sighed but opened her mouth. "Mm… delicious," she moaned as the flavors met her palate.

"You've got a little…" Damon said, putting down the fork and leaning in.

"What?"

"Sauce… riiiight there," he said and licked the side of her lips.

"Thank you," Elena said as he pulled back.

"My pleasure," he smiled.

Their night ended with a decorous kiss on the cheek and Elena went to bed filled with conflicting emotions. Damon had been so sweet to her; it was getting more and more difficult to follow through on her plan. The sooner she got it over with, the better. She would make her move tomorrow night, she decided. And she knew just the way to do it.

* * *

><p>After dinner the following night, Elena got dressed in her best lingerie, a black lace set, and slipped into a black silk robe. Damon had said dessert would be awhile, and she tiptoed downstairs, finding him in the kitchen.<p>

Damon was focused on dressing the semifreddo with melted chocolate and didn't notice Elena entering the kitchen until she slipped her arms around his waist.

"Hey," he smiled over his shoulder. "I was just getting ready to serve dessert."

"So was I," she replied huskily.

Slightly confused as to what she meant, Damon slowly turned around to take in her appearance. His eyes darkened as he drunk in the sight of her in her silky robe, one shoulder exposed.

"What's this?" he raised his eyebrows with a pleased look on his face.

"I talked to the doctor today. He said I didn't have to be too careful with my wrist if it didn't hurt…"

"Oh, he did, did he?"

"Yeah. I talked to a lot of people today, actually… John, Jenna, Matt, the police…" Elena said casually, waiting for him to take the bait.

"Wait- the police? Why?"

"Oh, they just had some follow-up questions about the accident. They had the other driver tested for his blood alcohol content, so…"

"They thought he'd been drinking? In the middle of the day?"

"Oh, well, it was late…"

"Late?"

"Yeah, like ten or eleven."

"Ten or eleven? Why were you coming over so late?"

"Well, I was coming to spend the night with you…"

"I invited you to spend the weekend with me, and you act like it was some booty call?"

"Isn't that what this is all about? Getting me into bed?"

"Is that all you want from me?" He was yelling now.

Elena knew she had pushed all the right buttons, but she was starting to regret it. Bracing herself, she prepared to say the word that would change everything.

"Yes."

"Well, then I won't disappoint," he growled and scooped her up into his arms, carrying her into his bedroom and practically throwing her on his soft, four-poster bed.

Elena looked up to see Damon hovering over her, his blue eyes dark with desire, just before his lips crashed down on hers in a searing embrace.

* * *

><p>Elena let her eyes linger at the naked torso of the man sleeping soundly next to her before quietly slipping out of bed and gathering her underwear and robe. She hurried back to her room, changed her clothes and got the bag she had packed earlier that night. She took out the folded bills from its hiding place and sighed deeply. On her way downstairs, she snuck back into Damon's room and placed the bills on his nightstand, where he was sure to see them when he woke up.<p>

With one last look at the man who once treated her like a prostitute, she walked away, determined never to look back.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: Thank you for your sweet reviews. Final chapter : ) Stay tuned for the epilogue. Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Bittersweet Taste of Revenge<p>

~ X ~

* * *

><p>Elena woke up the next morning to the sound of someone banging on her door. Sighing, she pulled on a robe over her pajamas and looked through the peephole. Damon.<p>

"What do you want, Damon?" she sighed.

"What the hell, Elena? I woke up this morning and you were gone."

"So?" Elena shrugged.

"_So_? We need to talk about what happened last night."

"No, we really don't."

"I don't understand you. Last night… it may have started out the wrong way, but… it was amazing, Elena. I thought you felt so too."

"Really? It wasn't too 'mechanical' for you?" she said curtly.

"What?" Damon frowned.

"Never mind. Look, Damon, you woke me up. Is there something particular you wanted to say to me?"

Damon ran a hand through his hair, completely nonplussed. Why was she acting like she couldn't stand the sight of him?

"I just don't get you. You're acting really strange, you know that?"

"Look, you got what you wanted, and so did I. I really don't see any reason for us to keep spending time together," Elena said casually.

"So last night was just about sex?"

"Yes."

"I don't believe you."

"Believe what you want, Damon."

Damon shook his head, leaning against the doorframe.

"You should go," she said coldly. "We're done here."

Damon stared at her in disbelief for a moment, then realized he wasn't getting anywhere with her and turned to leave. As he was about to, though, he remembered something and turned back around.

"Why did you leave me money? You were my guest, you didn't have to pay for room and board."

"That's not what it was for," Elena said coolly.

"Wha-" It took a moment for her words to register, and when Damon spoke again, he did so in a whisper. "You mean… it was for last night?" he stared at her, incredulous.

"Wasn't it enough? I mean, the times have changed and I haven't exactly been keeping track, but I agree it was a generous sum to begin with, so…"

"You're not making any sense," Damon shook his head. "Keep your money," he said, pulling the wad out of his back pocket and holding it out to her.

"It's yours."

"No…"

"Yes. It is. Think about it. Maybe something will spark your memory. Goodbye, Damon," she said and slammed the door in his face.

* * *

><p>After she was sure he had left, Elena got dressed and drove over to her aunt and uncle's house.<p>

"Hey kiddo," John greeted her with a smile, which quickly faded as he saw how pale she was. "What happened?" he asked, a concerned frown on his face.

"Is Jenna home?" As much as she loved John, this was a subject she felt more comfortable discussing with a woman.

"Sure, sweetie, come on in," he said compassionately and ushered her inside. "Jenna's outside in the garden. I'll give you guys some privacy," he said and grabbed his car keys.

"Thank you," Elena said, grateful, and hugged him.

"Anything for you, you know that," he said and walked out the door.

Elena took a deep breath and pushed open the patio door. "Aunt Jenna?" she said in a broken voice.

Jenna got up from the ground where she had been clearing weeds, wiped her hands on her jeans and pulled her tearful niece into a warm hug.

"Tell me everything."

* * *

><p>Once Elena had gotten everything out, and used up a year's supply of tissue paper in the process, she and Jenna prepared dinner and called John to let him know it was safe to come home – and to bring back pizza. They hid the charcoaled bits of meat in the trash and poured themselves some wine in anticipation of John's return. They had a pleasant meal together and Elena returned to her apartment late at night, tired but in a slightly better mood. That quickly ended when she spotted a disheveled Damon waiting outside her door, his face in his hands and giving off a slight stench of alcohol.<p>

He looked up when she stepped out of the elevator and didn't say a word as she got out her keys and unlocked the door. He rose from his sitting position on the floor and followed her inside, slumping down on her couch, clutching his near-empty bottle of Scotch.

Elena walked over to her kitchen area and started a pot of coffee before taking a seat opposite him.

"It was you," he said dejected, his voice cracked.

"Yes," she confirmed.

"That night… it's haunted me for ten years. I never even got your name."

"It didn't exactly leave me with fond memories, either," Elena said sourly.

"I thought…"

"I know what you thought."

"You don't understand… That night… my wife had divorced me a few days earlier and she blackmailed me into signing an agreement that favored _her_ in the divorce. She crushed me, Elena. She was a selfish, cold-hearted bitch and she made me lose faith in all women." He paused to take a swig of his bottle.

"I was complaining to Stefan that if I had known I'd be paying for the pleasure of sleeping with my wife, I wished I'd known it from the start. He joked and said I should get myself a hooker, that way I'd know what I was paying for. I said something along the lines of 'sure, get me someone who's the opposite of Katherine and I'll consider it'. We shared a bitter laugh about it and just as we were about to go downstairs, he said 'maybe you'll get lucky tonight'." Damon shook his head in disbelief.

"Then I saw you across the room. You were so innocent, so beautiful – you were the exact opposite of my ex-wife. And when I caught you looking at me… I figured Stefan _did_ order a hooker. When I suggested we get out of there and you agreed, I…"

"You thought I was a prostitute."

"I should have known… you were so innocent. I thought it was an act, you were too perfect. Then while I was in the shower, I started sobering up, and I decided I was going to talk to you, make sure you were all right, maybe even get to know you… but when I got out, you were gone."

"You told me to leave."

"I did, didn't I?" Damon shook his head in shame. "Then I saw the sheets… you were a virgin, Elena."

"Yes. I was," she said in a low voice, blinking back tears.

"I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am."

Elena shrugged, looking down at the floor.

"I talked to Stefan the next day. I asked him who were invited to the party except industry people. When he said that Caroline had invited her high school friends, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I was sure I'd go to jail for statutory rape and leave Stefan without a brother. I couldn't do that. Family's… too important."

Something snapped inside Elena. She had no intention of letting him know, but the talk of family sent her into a fit of rage. She wanted to hurt him like she had been hurt, make him share her pain.

"Family?" she hissed and got off the couch, storming into her bedroom. She returned within seconds with a book that she threw at him. "Here's your family history!"

Stunned, he looked at the book in his hand. It was a diary.

While Elena went over to pour them coffee, and calm herself down in the process, Damon started flipping through the pages. When Elena threw the book, a part of the cover came loose and two pieces of paper fell out from their hiding place. Damon picked them up and looked at them, his eyes brimming with tears as he read them.

The first was a birth certificate, listing him as the father of Elena's child. The second was an obituary, never published, with a mini biography of their son's few hours spent in this world.

"Elena…" he said in a broken voice, looking up at her. "I can't be your baby's father."

"There's never been anyone else. Believe me, you're it."

"No… you don't understand… I can't have children. Katherine and I tried to get pregnant for years, it just wasn't happening. We went to see a doctor. He confirmed I couldn't procreate."

"Then he was wrong."

"I saw the tests…" Damon shook his head. "It was the reason Katherine gave for divorcing me. She said she wasn't about to spend the rest of her life in a dead-end marriage and have nothing to show for it. She came to me some time later, saying she was pregnant with my brother's baby and that she would tell everyone that I was impotent and forced her to turn to my brother. Katherine threatened to have an abortion if I didn't give her half of my private fortune in the divorce. I couldn't let my little niece or nephew die, no matter how I felt about their parents at the time."

"So you signed the papers," Elena deduced.

"I did."

"And Katherine had Stefan's child?"

"No. As it turns out, she was never pregnant. She never even slept with Stefan. She faked the whole thing. She told me the truth after I had already signed the papers. I should have known… she probably got one of her doctor friends to fake my blood work, too."

"So you believe I'm telling the truth?"

"Yes… I believe you, Elena. And I'm so sorry for doubting you. I'm so sorry for everything I put you through."

"I know…"

"Our son… you named him Damien?" he looked at the birth certificate again, then back up at her.

Elena shrugged. "I just… liked the name, I guess."

Damon reached out to take her hands in his. "Do you think… you could ever learn to like _me_?"

"I don't know. Maybe someday."

"That's good enough for me. Now that I've found you, I'm never giving up on you again."


	11. Epilogue

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: Here it is, as promised, a very short epilogue. Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed this story, you've put a smile on my face every single day: ) Enjoy!_

_PS: I've written the prologue for my new AU-fic (I just can't stop writing), for which I do not yet have a title. It will be up shortly. Love ya!_

* * *

><p>Bittersweet Taste of Revenge<p>

~ Epilogue ~

* * *

><p>"She's beautiful, 'Lena," Caroline gushed over the baby girl sleeping soundly in her cot. "I'm going to be the best aunt, just you wait and see," she cooed in a soft voice so as to not wake little Helen Miranda Isabella.<p>

Damon and Elena had agreed to name their firstborn after their mothers, but Damon insisted she be called Helen.

"_She will grow up to be as beautiful as her mother, and that is the kind of beauty that make men go to war."_

"_Men don't start wars because of women – they just blame them for their own immaturity and obsession with power," Elena corrected him._

"_Well, I just know that once the boys start chasing after her, I'm gonna be a proud gun owner."_

"You mean you're going to spoil her rotten," Elena laughed as she and Caroline snuck out of the nursery as quietly as they had snuck in.

"Well, what's a little Italian getaway now and then?" Caroline shrugged, "She will want to spend some time with her cousins."

"I don't think we'll be sending her overseas any time soon, Caroline. Wait- did you say 'cousins'?"

Caroline beamed. "We're having another baby."

Elena wrapped her arms around Caroline in a warm hug. "Oh, Care, I'm so happy for you!"

"Thanks, sweetie. Listen, I know it's still early days, but I wanted to ask you… will you be our new baby's godmother? Stefan's asking Damon, and I couldn't think of better substitute parents for our children than you guys."

"Oh, Caroline, of course I will," Elena replied, moved.

"Great. Now that that's settled, we should probably get back downstairs. Apparently, Damon made some yummy dessert."

Elena laughed. "Yes, Damon _is_ quite the dessert man."


End file.
